


Ways of the heart

by tevivinter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bisexuality, Falling In Love, Feels, Hallucinations, M/M, Pining, Swearing, and embarrassment, basically a lot of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tevivinter/pseuds/tevivinter
Summary: Marel gets injured after facing a wyvern. A conversation with Dorian leads him to discover something about himself.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Ways of the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Rated teen only because of swearing.

Marel woke up to the faint sound of crickets chirping at a distance. He opened his eyes with a frown, feeling a slight sting due to the bandages wrapped around his torso. An annoyed sigh came out of his lips. He was used to being wounded during battles - fainting, however, was a rare thing. It usually took some great effort to bring him down after all.

The claw marks on his chest were much deeper and longer than the ones caused by bears. There was no need to see them in order to know that they were nasty. It was his first time facing a wyvern, and he felt thankful to be wearing his armor just before the wild beast leaped at his direction. Still, the creature’s claws were strong enough to rip through metal. They also contained a deadly venom, which was probably the reason why Marel blacked out so fast.

He leaned forward to sit on his bedroll, eyes wandering around. Someone had brought him inside a tent. A thin stripe of light came through the slightly open flaps, but everything else was dark. Which meant he had slept into the night.

A small moment of silence went by before he stood up and walked out of the tent.

Dorian was sitting next to the campfire. A thick book with a leather cover laid open on his lap, and Marel went completely silent once he noticed Dorian’s furrowed brows. It was not unusual to find him entranced by some book, but something was different this time. Lips pursed together, jaw clenched with unspoken tension, shoulders stiffened. He was worried about something.

Other than that, the firelight seemed to frame the sharp planes of his face effortlessly. It also made his eyes look like polished silver in the most captivating way. Marel couldn’t help but notice the precise line of kohl on his eyelid, and how his tanned skin looked so smooth and _warm_ -

And he was _staring_. What the fuck. Marel cleared his throat awkwardly — at least Dorian didn’t notice any of it. In fact, he looked too distracted to notice his presence at all. Marel took one step closer. “Hey,” he muttered.

Dorian nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. “Marel?” His head turned to meet the elf’s gaze, brows raised and mouth agape. Then he stood up, casting the book away. “You’re awake,” he mumbled.

“It’s been a few minutes,” Marel said. “You were really focused on that book. I didn’t want to disturb.”

Dorian blinked. “Let me clarify this- you’re the one who almost got killed, and yet _you_ didn’t want to disturb _me_.” If he were not so furious, a dry laugh would have followed. “Unbelievable.”

Marel furrowed his brows. “You’re angry at me.”

“Of course I am!” Dorian snapped, although he tried to keep his voice down so the others wouldn’t wake up. He let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. It would be no use to fight in that moment. When he spoke again, his voice was lower and more composed. “That book- I was searching for wyvern venom.” Dorian resumed staring at Marel. “Do you have any idea of what could have happened?”

Marel crossed his arms. “Wyverns use their poison to slow and kill prey. It’s known to provoke hallucinations and it’s deadly when left untreated. Three specific herbs are required to make an antidote. Andraste’s mantle, drakevein and winterberry… they are not very rare, though,” he shrugged. The explanation came out naturally as if reciting a book page from memory — except it was one of his father’s lessons.

Dorian looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Even knowing that, you still jumped in front of me.”

Marel could recall the exact moment in which the wyvern was just about to leap in Dorian’s direction. For some reason his heart clenched at the mere thought of it. It was even worse during the heat of the battle, when panic rushed through his chest and fear drove him to act recklessly. It was a different kind of fear, one that he had never felt before. He was _terrified_. Not for himself, but for Dorian’s sake.

The elf swallowed. “You would have died otherwise.” Dorian stared at him for a moment. He was probably not used to hear this kind of thing. Still, the silence between them felt unnerving and Marel wouldn’t be able to control the thumping inside his chest if Dorian kept looking at him without actually saying something. Marel uncrossed his arms. “I mean, I’m always escaping death,” he said dumbly. “So...”

Dorian’s expression softened at last. “Indeed. In fact, I quite lost the count of it.” He smirked weakly, and Marel couldn’t help but do the same. “I suppose I should be thankful,” he said before walking closer and resting one hand on Marel’s good shoulder. “I appreciate it. Just don’t attempt to do that ever again, or I’m killing you myself. Am I clear?”

The elf’s smile grew wider. It was obviously an empty threat. “Sure. I just don’t know _how_ you’ll kill me if I’m already dead, but you’re welcome to try.”

“By bringing you back first, of course. It seems that necromancy does have some benefits.” Dorian returned to his previous position next to the campfire. He picked up the book once again before glancing at Marel. “Care to join me for a bit? I still need to finish this chapter.”

Marel nodded. “The one about wyverns?” He asked, proceeding to seat by Dorian’s side.

“No. This one dabbles on different kinds of herbs and their uses; some of them are said to be used by the Dalish." Dorian paused, suddenly intrigued by something. He glanced at Marel. "Speaking of which, I've been curious about something."

"What?"

"You were hallucinating earlier. I tried to talk with you, but you only mumbled something in elvhen. I would like to know the meaning of it."

Marel wouldn’t mind answering that, though curiosity made him wonder what sorts of things he said. The worst part was not being able to remember anything at all. He shrugged lightly, turning his gaze to the fire. “Sure. What did it sound like?”

“I believe the word was ‘ _vhenan’_.”

It was all it took to make Marel freeze on the spot.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. What was he supposed to do? More than that, _why_ did he say that to Dorian? Creators help him, they were only _friends_ — yet that word meant something else entirely. Marel swallowed hard, trying to come up with something while also trying to hide his embarrassment (and most likely failing at both). He was thankful not to be looking directly at Dorian’s face. It would be the death of him otherwise.

“I…” The elf took a deep breath. _Fenedhis_. The heat spreading across his face burned like a hot oven and turned his cheeks into the same color of his hair. He ran one hand through his hair, attempting to look at least mildly composed. “It means I was out of my mind,” he mumbled.

Embers crackled in the dead of night for a while. Marel looked down, failing to ignore the weight of Dorian’s gaze on him. He was a terrible liar, but hopefully the mage would accept his answer instead of questioning him further. Dorian closed the book with a light thump.

“Are you okay?” He furrowed his brows in concern.

Marel reluctantly looked back at him. He was _not_ aware of how close they were, knees briefly touching one another. He _certainly_ did not clench his jaw because of the silver eyes staring at his direction, and his heart was _definitely_ not racing against his ribcage. Most of all, he was _not_ suddenly self conscious of the fact that he was shirtless still. 

“I- yeah,” Marel muttered dumbly.

But this time Dorian wasn’t convinced. He touched the elf’s forehead with the palm of his hand. “I knew there was something wrong. Maker, you’re _burning_.”

Marel just wanted to bury his face in a hole. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath would hopefully keep him from feeling like a stupid teenager. Still, he couldn’t help but notice the warmth of Dorian’s hand against his skin. It felt oddly soothing, and the fact that he _liked_ it only made the situation worse. Everything was a mess.

“I should go,” Marel said as he stood up. “This is- probably some side effect from the venom. I will get better soon.”

“If you say so,” Dorian answered. “Get some rest, yes? The whole world will need you tomorrow morning,” he joked.

Marel’s lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t stay up too late.”

He remembered how to breathe again after entering his tent and shutting it close. What the fuck had just happened? It took him a few minutes to compose himself, eyes blankly staring down. Then, memories of the past few minutes started rolling back into his mind.

It all began with a stupid word. If not for that, Marel wouldn’t have all these doubts filling his brain, nor he would panic by being close to Dorian… right? They were friends. It just didn’t make sense to react — or _feel_ — the way he did. Friends were not supposed to get nervous around one another, and he had never felt anything of the sort when it came to Dorian. In fact, he had never felt like that with _anyone_.

Maybe it was just a misunderstanding, or maybe he was just blind for a long time. Marel laid on his back, confusion keeping him very much awake. It was irritating to have so many questions and not enough answers. A small eternity passed as he wondered, idly, whether those feelings were real or not. 

His mind wandered far away until he became aware of his own heartbeat. Thinking of Dorian made him feel... different, but in a pleasant way. 

What he did _not_ notice was the subtle smile on his lips just before he drifted into sleep.


End file.
